Sunday, March 20, 2011

Today’s the one day that we go off track,
We derail from our normal levush,
It began in a circuit of provinces,
On a mainline from Hodu to Kush.

Achashveirosh was the token leader,
And he set events in motion,
He threw a party for his local subjects,
To show his gratitude and devotion.

There were Jews who were all aboard,
Though they were out of line to attend,
Goyim and Yidden are not a good union,
Mordechai knew how the trip would end.

During the festivities Vashti caused the king’s patience to combust.
Pimples and a t(r)ail made her defy his express orders.
Without stopping to gauge the consequences,
Achashveirosh had her bahn-ed by his porters.

Immediately; without delay,
Messengers traveled on a ride,
A new queen was needed to bridge Vashti’s position,
Girls flocked from far and wide.

Hagai conducted the hopefuls,
In his cabin they primped and they shined,
The others thought Esther had some loco-motive,
Because she refused Hagai’s efforts each time.

Even when the king pulled out all the stops,
Esther would not reveal her birth nation,
Achashveirosh tried without success,
But still had her elevated to the queen’s station.

We take a detour here,
To a scene from the underground,
When two rookies tried to harm the king,
But Mordechai had Bigsan and Seresh terminally bound.

A man named Haman was given a platform,
(Yes, now we are back to our tale,)
He asked Achashveirosh to hack all the Jews
Over a shared tanker-d of ale.

Achashveirosh turned aside Haman’s container of gold,
The king didn’t give a flying junction,
Haman whistled all the way home,
And set wheels rolling to plan his function.

When the Jews were slugged with the news,
They took it freight-fully hard, Fueled by desperation, they fasted and cried,
Smeared with coal, Mordechai sat outside the king’s yard.

Esther was afraid to visit the king,
Because his signal she hadn’t received.
After three days of fasting she shuttled herself over,
Hoping to get the Yidden a reprieve.

Achashveirosh shunted his surprise,
Without (pica)dilly-dallin’,
He gave his wife safe crossing to the throne,
Then joined her private party’s bandwagon.

All Esther wanted at this intersection,
Was another occasion to be their host,
She asked the king and Haman to a second event,
Just for the people of their exalted posts.

The king leaned back on his headboard that night,
By a lantern his aides read the royal scripts.
Achashveirosh remembered the debt he owed Mordechai,
He was being driven insane by it.

Haman showed up, pistons letting off steam,
He wanted Mordechai swiftly disabled.
But after giving Achashveirosh ideas for a reward,
The king laid his cards on the table.

The next morning Mordechai was Haman’s passenger,
He took a transit route ‘round and ‘round the city
The turntable of our mazal began to shift slowly,
Just rewards are not always pretty!

The highlight of the day was when,
Haman’s daughter trained some exhaust on his face.
Caught in the headlights, Haman felt tram-pled,
He wanted to speed right on out of that place.

Hauling himself to Esther’s party,
A smelly Haman was given wide berth,
Shaking off the garbage and all of his shame,
He couldn’t wait to spike his own worth.

But what a surprise when Esther railed against him,
She put a brake on his scheme so fine.
Achashveirosh, boiler-ing, choo’d him out,
And Haman got a metrocard to the end of the line!

That’s when the big switch of our story took place,
And Haman was transported with his kit and caboose.
Enjoying the mechanics of his downfall,
We watched him hanged from his very own noose!

The Yidden tooted with joy, and gave tanks to Hashem,
When He emerged as our story’s true engineer.
Out of a dark tunnel, and into the light,
Now we wait for Purim to arrive each year!

So that’s the train of thought behind the reason
We act so choo choo at this time,
And for the cutest coaches in the subways today,
Get a ticket and come along as we ride!

(Yes, I made the costumes. No, I won't make them for you if you paid me. And yes, my husband had a costume too but he declined to be in the photos.)

Invisible Me

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To the Reader:

I can be contacted at twinklebrite@yahoo.comThis is a blog of the journal I kept when I was a 16 year old teen with cancer.

It sat in my drawer collecting dust for a long time until I decided that it was important to get my story out there.

Whether the reader is here for inspiration, support, a laugh, a good cry, curiosity, or by accident, I'm glad to be of service.

I learned from this challenge that Hashem put before me and do not regret going through it. I will never know His reasoning, but that's not my job.

My job is to put myself out there and be there for anyone who needs chizuk. My job is to show the world that cancer can be a part of someone's every day living without taking over their life. My job is to show that there is a life after cancer as well.

That was then. I am now.

So if you feel that reading my blog/book has made a difference to you, then my journal has already more than served its purpose.